


Nikandros Doesn’t Get Paid Enough For This

by dragonmage27



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: 5 Things, 5+1 Things, M/M, Misunderstandings, Post-Kings Rising
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 16:23:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8453380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonmage27/pseuds/dragonmage27
Summary: Five times Nikandros mistakenly thought Damen and Laurent were engaging in shameless intimacy and one time he doesn’t.(Or, Laurent and Damen are actually trying to productively build a kingdom together but their kyros has his mind in the gutter.)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dawnofthursday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnofthursday/gifts).



+++

Nikandros was used to just entering any door at Marlas. It was his domain, his home for years, and he was the kyros. There were no locked rooms, no corridors he could not walk through. These days, he sometimes forgets that he has two guests of significantly much higher rank living in his fort until their own palace is constructed.

Nikandros had not thought himself so incapable of fetching iron tea himself, plus he could use the walk; it served as a nice break from mulling over the prices of grain. He thought he saw light from under the doors, but it was now deep into the night and the kitchen servants--not slaves anymore, he reminded himself--may have retired for the night. It was perhaps just a forgotten fire in the hearth. He heard a low grunt and a loud thud just as he pushed the door open.

Lying before Nikandros were his two Kings. Or for a better description, Damianos lying on top of Laurent.

Damen was sprawled out covering Laurent, pressing the smaller man down against the wooden table. Damen’s large hand were wrapped around one of Laurent’s more slender wrists, holding them above the blonde’s head down to the table. His other hand was at the man’s hip.

Damen had bent Laurent over the table. The kitchen prep table. Both kings turned startled heads towards the door at its opening.

Nikandros felt his face flush, then he coughed and quickly closed the door again.  He loved Damen like a brother, and now as his King, but there were things they shared with each other in boyhood that he should not see now.

And Nikandros would order the entire kitchen to be cleaned before the first meal was served the following morning. They should be done by then.

\----

Damen and Laurent had worked on their new economic policies until late into the night--turns out combining two kingdoms involved a lot more work than simply wishing it to be done--when Damen could stare at the maps no longer, and suggested they take a walk down to the kitchens for a late night snack.

Laurent raised a fine brow, “Was dinner not enough for you? The boar you devoured begs to differ.”

Damen grinned, “How else will I maintain my figure to scare off our enemies, my dear? Walk with me?”

Laurent picked up his goblet and noted that it was empty. “I suppose I could stretch my legs.”

They wandered to the kitchens and lit a small fire in the hearth, flooding the kitchen with a warm glow.

“I found the oil, where do you think they put the bread?” Damen asked as he turned while carrying the oil urn. Oil sloshed over the rim and dripped onto the floor.

Laurent shook his head. “You’re making a mess,” he said, and walked towards the table where he saw a mildly soiled rag.

Damen took two fast steps. “Let me, my hands are dirty anyways--” As he stepped over the oil slip, his foot skid against the smooth floor and he fell forward.

He landed with his chest to Laurent’s back, Laurent having hit the edge of the table with a grunt. In Damen’s instinct to hold on, he had ended up pressing his torso up against Laurent’s firmly, his right hand wrapped tightly on Laurent’s right arm, and his left hand had grabbed instinctively to Laurent’s hip.

Damen grinned. An unexpected turn of the night.

At that moment, the door swung open and Nikandros stood at the door staring at them, a look of horror in his eyes. In the two seconds it took for him to take in the scene, he quickly shut the door again.

Laurent let out another low grunt, and pushed Damen off him, “You’re too heavy.” He patted down his still pristine clothes, “Your friend Nikandros seems to think we’d be brazen enough to make love in the kitchens of all places.”

Damen’s quirked a smile.

“What? You look like you just figured something out and want to say it.”

Damen grinned, “You called it making love.”

Laurent flushed to the tips of his ears.

 

+++

 

Nikandros walked to the reception hall where he heard Damen and Laurent were entertaining a guest--someone who had aided them during their upheaval to reclaim their throne. On his way, he passed by a finely dressed man swathed in a multitude of luxurious fabrics, who kept his eyes low and gave him a formal bow.

The man’s eyes seem to linger on his chiton and Nikandros tried not to think too deeply about it. Perhaps he was a Veretian courtier. He dressed frivolously enough for one.

He pushed the door open to see Damen naked, stripped of his chiton, his muscled physique on display. Damen did not look up at the sound--he stayed focused on meticulously unlacing the bizarre Veretian fashion, removing the clothing from Laurent’s body.

Laurent looked up sharply at the intrusion however, and there was no mistaking what he had walked in on. Again.

Nikandros slammed the doors shut once again and vowed to always knock before opening doors where his two concupiscent Kings were occupied. He cleared the halls, immediately frustrated and in a bad mood, scaring the well-dressed Veretian who had decidedly walked back towards the reception hall.

\---

Most of Laurent’s clothing was suited for the colder climate in Arles, and Damen’s chitons were more suited for the warmer days in Ios. It was therefore kindly suggested by their dear friend Charls, the renowned Veretian cloth merchant, that they design new fabrics solely for the kings.

“A union of Veretian and Akielon style will bring great harmony to this treaty, your majesties.”

For a man who discovered that the once-pet and once-fellow merchants were now his Kings, Charls took it with the grace of a man who knew he was now in royal favor and could sell so much more cloth.

Designs were whipped up rapidly and Charls brought an overwhelming amount of samples for the two Kings to try. With such a large amount of clothing to go through, it was more practical for the Kings to try them on in the large hall. “I will leave for my Kings to try on the first style and return in a brief moment to help with the fitting.”

As Charls left the hall, he walked past Kyros Nikandros and Charls bowed accordingly, all the while designing outfits for this lord. Akielons had so much torso, covering them with cloth would be a bounty.

 

+++

 

Nikandros strode down the familiar halls of Kingsmeet. He had spent months stationed in this sanctified place while he served as a guard and it isn’t without fond memories as he recalled the same stone paths. Solemnly, he knew that Damen had different feelings regarding this place and would not have willingly arrived if not for the ceremonious coronation that Laurent had encouraged.

“We are already changing so much of Akielos, you must give your people some familiarity.” It was a rare moment for Nikandros to agree with him.

There was a room in Kingsmeet that Nikandros would always fondly visit, a majestic chamber displaying the armor, swords and shields of the former Great Kings. It never failed to bestow upon Nikandros a sense of duty and significance while bathing in the remnants of the warriors.

However, Nikandros got a sickening sense of foreboding as he heard the now too familiar voice of Laurent of Vere echo through those halls.

“I think I hear someone coming. Quick, just stick it in!”

It was a quickened voice--with urgency and alarm.

Nikandros frowned. He doubted that he could fully approve of Damen’s blonde lover, but Laurent was slowly earning his respect. However if the Veretian Laurent had dared plot anything deceitful in the sacred halls of Kingsmeet, there was little that Damen could say in favor of his consort.

Of course, at that moment, Nikandros heard the deeper voice of his Exalted. It was equally hushed and frantic. “I don’t think it’ll fit, maybe if I had some oil!” And then the unmistakable sound of Damen grunting.

Nikandros saw red and bellowed before he could stop himself, “In Kingsmeet of all the places, you salacious asses!”

There was a moment of stunned silence, and then Nikandros heard laughter from the chamber, Damen’s deep chuckles and Laurent’s softer chortle. Feeling weary of the two insufferable Kings, Nikandros could do little else besides simply retrace his steps and leave the two to their coupling.

\---

“This is the helmet of Leto, they say he speared his enemies by charging at them headfirst, and used the blood to shine the metal.”

“How utterly barbaric,” Laurent drawled. “You’re not doing a very good job of convincing me otherwise, Damen.”

Damen ignored those sharp jab because he had seen Laurent request several tomes on Akielon history weeks before their arrival to Kingsmeet for their coronation. He probably knew more regarding the old Kings than Damen at this point.

“Look, Aegeus’ sword.” Damen’s fingers trailed the ornate sheath in reverence. “Father used to tell me the stories. Ios was threatened by sea raiders who sought to attack when we were weakened by the Great Storm. Rather than hiding behind the safe walls of the castle, he stood strong at the shores, slaying any who stepped foot on Akielon soil. They say the sword is blessed and protected him. By the time the raiders retreated, the sea had turned red.”

Damen’s enthusiasm stopped abruptly and he swallowed. Laurent was looking at him because he probably knew that the story hadn’t ended there. But his lover didn’t push him to continue either.

Aegeus had not only killed the invaders but any soldiers that unknowingly crossed his path. And in doing so, he had pushed away the invaders, but also his own people. They feared him and his power. Soon after, his generals and council feared that his bloodthirst could not be contained. They came together in uprising, locking him away because they feared the unknown.

It was not until centuries later that Kings would uncover the walled-off prison Aegeus was sealed away in, erecting a statue for him in Kingsmeet and preserving his sword and memory. His strength revered, but his danger a warning of how a king could be blinded by bloodlust and mercilessly slay his own subjects.

Laurent gripped Damen’s arm tightly, jerking him out of his reverie. “History is written by the winners, Damianos. If I decided to usurp and seize the throne, the stories I passed down would be in my favor and not his. So trust me, I’ve already hired the bards to sing about my uncle. What a tragic, hideous man. Having been castrated so young.”

Laurent’s eyes twinkled, and Damen couldn’t stop himself from cupping his hand around the side of Laurent’s head, stroking his thumb gently over Laurent’s soft cheek. Laurent leaned into his touch, the soft strands of his golden hair tickling his fingers.

“They also say that whoever touches the blade will be surrounded in shining light, bestowed with the same power that protected Aegeus,” Laurent continued. “Try it.”

“Try what?”

“The light. I want to see if there’s a shining light when you touch the sword.”

There was teasing in Laurent’s voice, but also a childish curiosity. Damen was reminded of the night Laurent told him he used to ride on Auguste’s shoulders, waving around a wooden sword, pretending that the Prince’s Guard were fearful dragons, and Auguste his noble steed.

“Don’t blame me when Aegeus’s vengeful spirit comes out from it,” Damen teased back. There were many varying legends regarding this complicated figure.

“Only those worthy to be King may touch it.” Laurent looked straight into Damen’s eyes.

Laurent’s unwavering faith giving him strength, Damen pulled the sword swiftly from the sheath, and trailed his fingers over the cold steel. The touch of the metal, despite centuries old, was no different than the blade he carried with him now.

But he was not the only one who needed affirmation here in Kingsmeet. Laurent had not believed that his coronation in the heart of Akielos would be welcomed. Damen disagreed. With great care, Damen point the blade towards Laurent. He repeated Laurent’s words, “Only those worthy to be King may touch it.”

If Laurent’s hand trembled as he reached out for the blade, he had stifled it. His fingers hovered over the dull metal, once stained with the blood of countless men and now used to confirm kings. When his fingers finally touched the blade, Damen could see Laurent give a slight exhale, as if he’d unknowingly held his breathe. Laurent quirked a smile, “I knew there was not going to be a shining light.”

Damen directed his gaze to meet Laurent. “No, not one that we can see.”

Whatever moment that was brewing between them was broken by the sound of footsteps echoing down the hall. They traded mildly panicked looks. Although they were to be pledged as Kings there soon, it would not be proper to be seen touching relics of a bygone era. The collection stayed pristine because no one was allowed to touch. It was an unspoken rule: if one sought to touch and admire the King’s Treasury, one mustn't be caught in there.

Damen had already broken the most sacred rule of the Kingsmeet. It would be upsetting if he was caught breaking another.

Laurent quickly grabbed the sheath and placed it by the blade tip. “I think I hear someone coming. Quick, just stick it in!”

Damen tried to, but the rusty metal had trouble returning to his casing. “I don’t think it’ll fit, maybe if I had some oil!” Damen let out an undignified grunt as he tried to force the blade in.

Then they heard the unmistakable horrified bellow from Nikandros, who had once again, believed he caught his Kings in the midst of intercourse. They traded grins and sent a wave of laughter back to Nikandros.

 

+++

 

Nikandros never thought he would ever be as far north as he was now, surrounded by Veretians and Akielons alike, in the thick woods near Arles. Nikandros had been certain Laurent only suggested this in order to win Makedon’s favor during their campaign south, but apparently he had made good on his promise and invited his general for a hunt of chamois.

Makedon approved of this young man, so he rallied his finest warriors and they all rode up to the heart of Vere with nothing more than hunting weaponry and too much griva.

Nikandros didn’t necessarily approve, but he could not deny that this hunt was fostering a camaraderie that had been missing. Veretian soldiers greeted Akielon bannermen with wine loosened tongues and there were now more laughter than threats of unsheathing swords.

Nikandros settled for amusing himself by watching Makedon clap his heavy hand over Laurent’s shoulder repeatedly and the startled jerk the young king produced each time. “The boisterous uncle Laurent deserves,” Damen had murmured once, mainly to himself. Nikandros was not certain what that meant, but Damen had looked pleased.

It was early autumn in Arles, summer fleeing the northern territory faster than the south and the leaves on trees had begun their descent, turning into radiant colors of red and orange. It was like the sunset that danced across the horizon over the oceans of Ios. Nikandros admitted it was beautiful in its own right.

“In a few months, the leaves will have completely fallen, and a blanket of snow will cover these trees,” Jord commented in rough Akielon by his side. He must have noticed Nikandros observing their surroundings.

In the recent months, Nikandros had found himself working frequently with Laurent’s new commander. Despite him being Veretian, Nikandros found him honorable and had the easy mannerisms of a career soldier. This Nikandros was used to. Oftentimes when Damen and Laurent were--Nikandros suppressed a shudder--preoccupied, he and Jord would stay late in the strategy room discussing troops and battlements. Jord was not born to be a leader, Nikandros could tell he did not have the natural confidence that himself, Damen and Laurent had, but he was a hard-worker and learned fast. And most importantly, he was loyal.

During one of their earlier rides, Jord had ridden a few paces behind Nikandros at all times, which he found odd until he realized it was purposeful. He called him forward and Jord said, “You are an aristocrat, a kyros,” as if it explained everything.

Nikandros snorted, it seemed Veretians would follow their king to their death, but not ride alongside them towards it. “And you are a commander. In Akielos, if we fight together, we ride together. I remember you on the fields of Charcy.”

During a ride like this one, when Damen rode ahead with Laurent side-by-side, and Makedon was re-telling his favorite hunting stories that Nikandros had heard too many times before, and Pallas was, unsurprisingly, riding close with the Veretian captain Lazar, he found Jord a good companion as they ventured deeper into the woods where the chamois lived.

“I have never seen snow to the degree you speak of,” Nikandros remarked in Veretian. His Veretian was better than Jord’s Akielon. “The ice that comes to Delpha leaves soon after, and never covers more than a thin sheet that will disappear with the arrival of afternoon sun.”

“It’s a good time,” Jord commented. “Everything slows down, even for soldiers. Except for the occasional unlucky draw to be guard out on the battlement, there is not much to do besides sit beside a warm fire and sip spiced mead.”

“I doubt you will find yourself assigned to the high walls anymore. I’m not sure about Vere, but in Akielos, if you are a good soldier, you can make something of yourself. Look at Pallas, if he was not an aristocrat but common-born, he would still rise through the ranks and have admirers, even aristocrats, throwing themselves at him if not for him having chosen Lazar.”

“I suppose so.” Jord grew quiet.

Perhaps in Vere they had limitations on pursuing romance between different classes as well. Nikandros remembered that it was taboo for Veretians to have sex with the opposite gender before marriage--something he discovered when Laurent told him he was needed as a chaperone during meetings with Lady Vannes.

Which was ridiculous and not just because of the still-occasionally-circulated rumors that Laurent of Vere was frigid, but also because anyone with eyes could see that the blonde King only had eyes for Damen, and Damen didn’t share.

Speaking of their kings, “Who do you think will emerge most victorious in this hunt?”

Jord smiled with a far-off look, as if remembering a fond memory. “King Laurent once bested Torveld of Patras by riding his horse to death.”

Nikandros frowned. He has seen Laurent interact with horses in the stable. He treated them better than he treated most people. “That is not the action of a good hunter, nor a good rider.”

“No,” Jord agreed. “But he does not like to lose.”

That Nikandros believed wholeheartedly. He had seen the okton and a grudging part of him admits that Laurent had earned his respect with his display of sportsmanship. “Hunting chamois over uneven terrain is different than circling around a still target,” Nikandros pointed out.

“If it is a game, Laurent does not lose,” Jord declared.

Nikandros was amused. “You are so very loyal, Jord of Vere. In a land of snakes, Laurent is lucky to have found a dog.”

Jord’s hands suddenly jerked the reins and his horse stumbled. “Even a dog can bite its master’s hands.”

All of a sudden, Damen’s voice cut through, “A master would put down the dog he couldn’t trust, not keep it at his side.” His tone was light, but it was a strong gaze he traded with Jord. Nikandros wondered how much Damen had heard.

Laurent rode up next to Damen, and the two of them signaled the herald to officially begin of the hunt. With that the riders let out enthused cries and split off into their own directions, some having seen chamois’ tracks, or following their scent hounds that were released.

Makedon and his retinue took off to the east, and Laurent threw Damen and Nikandros a smirk before spurring his horse and giving chase. Hearing the pounding of hoofs and the familiar feel of hunt made Nikandros spring his horse into motion too. The hunt was on.

As this hunt was a dual-kingdom affair, the hunting party had luncheon under bright Veretian tents, but the hunt would end in a celebratory feast of the Akielon style. Fire pits of a large scale was being erected right now by the servants left behind, preparing seasoning and oil as they waited at the ready for when the hunters returned with their prize. For in the evening, they would dine and feast only what game was captured and what the magnanimous winners deemed kind enough to share. Nikandros had no intention of begging for scraps.

The hours passed quickly during a hunt, minutes fading quickly away as they tracked their target and there were only scant seconds in the window of opportunity for the hunter to throw his spear or unleash his arrow, lest the animal be alerted and continue to run. Nikandros, like his many Akielon comrades, lived for this thrill. The brisk Veretian autumn air was welcoming when his heart pounded with excitement and his palms sweated from the rush.

Nikandros stopped his run when he came across the two horses that belonged to Laurent and Damen both grazing on the forest floor, riderless. He noticed Jord a couple distances away with a few of the King’s Guard. “Where are the Exalted?” he asked.

Jord responded. “We were told to wait here for his Majesties. King Laurent said there was something he wished to show King Damianos.”

Nikandros frowned. It was getting later on in the day, the sun would soon recede and the woods would become less welcoming. He knew his Kings could handle themselves, but his duty towards the Crown demanded he be concerned about their safety, first and foremost.

“Wait here,” he instructed his men, and they obeyed immediately. Nikandros silenced Jord’s protest with a look, and swung off his horse as well. They mustn’t have gone far if they left behind their horses, and if they had decided to do a quiet hunt on foot, Nikandros would not be welcomed if he scared away their game with the pounding of hoofs.

The dense trees had receded a fair amount in this part of the woods, become a more rocky terrain that edged close to the mountains. Damen and Laurent hadn’t bothered hiding their tracks and Nikandros made easy sport of following their short trek. He understood why they left the horses, the stallions would not have enjoyed the hike up the rock formations whilst weaving between the trees.

Nikandros paused when heard Damen’s distinct voice carried by the crisp wind. “Go in, I’ll be okay.” Damen’s usual strong voice wavered in the breeze.

Nikandros continued stepping forward until he heard Laurent’s softer voice. “Let me know right away if you want me out.” There was a momentary pause. “I...I don’t think I’ll fit. It’s a tight squeeze.” His voice was very faint.

Nikandros felt a sinking sensation in his stomach as a sickening realization began to take place.

Damen yelped a sharp sound, and Laurent responded in a startled voice, “Are you okay? Should I get out?”

“No,” Damen’s voice sounded slightly labored. “It’s just uneven ground. I’m not very balanced like this. I don’t know how you make it seem so easy.”

“Experience, Damen. I’ve done this more, and well, one is usually more prepared for this. We don’t have the proper kit.”

Nikandros had heard enough. He had grown up with Damianos, they’ve bled together, even shared the occasional bed slave in their youth. But never, never had Nikandros had the misfortune to bear witness to his King debased like such. To be taking it up the ass in the middle of the woods, not unlike a tavern whore who couldn’t afford to pay for the night. This was degrading, demeaning. Kings give, they do not take. Never mind the fact that the one giving was also a King.

Nikandros returned to the small clearing and leapt onto his stallion. “Leave the horses, and return with me to feast. His majesties will return in their own time.”

Nikandros rode off without a second look at the soldiers who had been startled by his quick return. He needed to find Makedon at once.

He needed griva.

\---

“You’re staring, Damen.”

Despite the chide, there was only amusement on Laurent’s face.  Damen and Laurent were riding separated from their hunting party once the hunt began, and Damen was having difficulty keeping his eyes off the profile of his lover. His seat, as usual, was immaculate. His shoulders were less tense, and Laurent had left his hair loose, it danced around with the wind, only slightly fixed in place by his golden crown.

“Could you blame me?” Damen teased. Even now, after waking up to Laurent pressed to his side every morning, his strands of hair tickling his chest, he looked at Laurent and needed to catch his breath.

Damen hoped Laurent was beginning to feel the realization that he too had arrived at--their unification was coming into fruition. There would still be endless problems to solve, but what began as an improbable idea was becoming reality. If years ago, someone told Damen he would be riding through Arles with his troops, welcomed by the Veretian court and invited for a hunt, next to his Veretian lover, he would have laughed at such a joke.

“Why did you host the hunt here, near Arles? We both know Acquitart has the better grounds.” The original invite to Makedon had been for Acquitart as well.

“I leave with my Akielon slave and a small guard, and I return with another kingdom. Can you fault me for wanting to parade my new men? Especially when they are all muscled and on display in your tiny skirts.”

“Your court has thought you frigid for so long. They might just drop dead with the news of your voracious appetite,” Damen would play this game with him. But there was something in Laurent’s eyes that made Damen realize he was being truthful. “Laurent. Has someone at court been upsetting you?”

Outwardly, nothing about Laurent’s features betrayed the tension that arose but Damen could feel it in the air.

“My uncle still has some supporters in court. I need them to fear the power that comes with Akielos and for them to know that I can call on them at my bidding.”

Damen pushed his horse to trot closer to Laurent’s and pulled his horse to a stop. With a sharp nod, he signaled for the guards, to remain a distance away from them. “You do not need to put up a pretense to call Makedon and his troops here. Should you need it, I will send the wrath of the Akielon army sweeping over Arles in your name. I give you my word.”

Laurent stilled his horse, but his face stayed impassive. The power behind his words were not lost to the fact that riding with them, now scattered throughout the woods, was just a fraction of the mighty Akielon force.

Damen got off his horse and walked over so he stood below Laurent, and his hand reached for Laurent’s which was still grasping the reins. “I helped you reclaim your kingdom, Laurent. I intend to help you keep it. Although our new capital is in the middle, Arles is not your burden alone. I wish for you to share it with me.”

Laurent took a deep breathe. But he had finally turned his face so he looked directly at Damen. “Being back here,” Laurent whispered, “I’m reminded of how alone I was.”

Damen tugged Laurent hand off the reins, lowering his head to press his lips against the back of his hand. “Not anymore.” He murmured the promise against soft skin.

There was a moment when Laurent didn’t react. And Damen was aware of the picture they painted, him off his horse, bowed down over Laurent’s hand, who still sat up straight and tall over his horse. If Nikandros was there, he would disapprove because Damen was conceding his strength, putting himself in this display of submission, but Damen knew he will always be a slave to Laurent.

But Laurent didn’t let them stay like that for long. He shifted his hand so their fingers interlaced and slid of his horse gracefully. There were no words traded, but Laurent clenched their hands together, and the acceptance and gratitude was palpable.

“Jord,” Laurent called out. “Stay here with our horses, there is something I wish to show Damen.” And Laurent began walking away from their guards, while never letting go of Damen’s hand.

Damen allowed himself to be lead through the trees, occasionally slowing down due to a large rock or unsteady ground. The terrain here was rougher, covered in large boulders with the occasional shrub. The large mountains lie ahead of them. But Damen had little regard for the scenario, albeit beautiful with the changing leaves. Not when Laurent’s hand was warm in his.

They walked for a few minutes in silence before Damen realized they were not aimlessly walking; Laurent had a destination in mind.

“Where are we headed?”

“There’s a place I used to go with Auguste. We would leave our horses with the Prince’s Guard back then too.”

Laurent seemed to want to leave it a mystery and Damen didn’t press further. But there was something regarding the Guard that he had to discuss. “I overheard Jord talking with Nikandros. Jord still hasn’t forgiven himself for Aimeric.”

Damen felt Laurent’s hand tense slightly and they stopped moving. His words came out caustic. “As he should be, _I_ haven’t forgiven him for Aimeric.”

Damen opened his mouth and Laurent gave him a sharp look. The words that came out were edged. “ _Don’t_ say he was too young to know better.”

“I would never,” Damen reassured Laurent. Aimeric had been the same age of Laurent. That fact would not slip his mind. “He killed Orlant and we will never forget that. I’m saying that you haven’t forgotten Jord’s betrayal, but you have forgiven him. Perhaps it is time you let Jord know that.”

Laurent let out a mildly hysteric laugh. “And how could you ever infer that?”

“You forgave me.” For Auguste, went unsaid. “Jord’s only mistake was that he followed his heart. Have we both not done the same? You know this, or you wouldn’t have reinstated him as your commander.”

Laurent became quiet again. “You’re right,” he said finally and the tension drained from him. “I could never hide anything from Auguste either.”

“I don’t want you hiding anything from me. Just as I will never keep anything from you.”

“You couldn’t even if you wanted to. You are an open book, Damen,” Laurent said flatly, but there was a tug at the corner of his lips. They began walking again.

Damen laughed and in doing so, almost slipped off a mossy rock. Laurent tugged his arm sharply to keep him standing.

“Be careful, you are top-heavy,” Laurent said with even more laughter in his eyes. Damen ignored the jab because he loved that look on Laurent’s face and would walk on his hands if it would keep it there. “We’re almost there. Back then, during hunts, Auguste would leave the rest of the party to keep me company. He never cared that he didn’t get to hunt, instead we’d climb on these rocks and waste the day away. Watching the shape of clouds, telling stories, chasing rabbits.

“We used to make these stupid dolls, from rocks and branches. We’d steal paints from the pets and use them to decorate these rocks.” Laurent’s voice had become light again, something that happened often when he was recalling Auguste. “Then we’d return the next time there was a hunt and continue the story-telling. I used to hide the rocks in this small cave so they’d be protected from the elements. I wonder if they’re still there. I think I once hid a brooch I really wanted from Auguste in there. He just thought a servant misplaced it. There it is!”

Laurent tugged him towards a small opening by the side of the mountain. It was less of a cave and more of an indent in the mountain. Damen definitely would not fit. “It’s smaller than I remember.” Laurent frowned at the opening, as if his displeasure could move mountains.

If it was within Damen’s power, they would because his pouting was making Damen’s heart swell. “I think you’re just bigger now,” Damen teased. Carefully the two of them walked up to the opening. The rocks there were more protruding, large outcroppings that required careful balance to avoid slipping. “Go in, I’ll be okay.” He knew Laurent held onto Auguste’s memories as anchor and until Damen could replace that, Damen would clear the mountain to get Laurent his painted rock if need be.

Laurent carefully began to slip towards the entrance of the cave. “Let me know right away if you want me out.” Damen grinned to himself, it was nice knowing that Laurent wanted to stay with him much as he wanted the same thing. Laurent crouched down, “I...I don’t think I’ll fit. It’s a tight squeeze.” He was facing the mountain now and his voice was more muffled.

Damen shifted his body to see from a different view and the spin made him lose his balance. He let out a yelp as he stabilized himself on the mossy rock, pressing one hand against the mountain.

But his shout had given Laurent a scare and his lover called out, “Are you okay? Should I get out?”

“No,” Damen breathed out. The slip had given him a shock though and his breathing was more labored slightly. “It’s just uneven ground. I’m not very balanced like this. I don't know how you make it seem so easy.” Laurent had stepped over the rocks with the nimble grace of a dancer.

“Experience, Damen. I’ve done this more, and, well, one is usually more prepared for this. We don’t have the proper kit,” Laurent answered him. He had managed to slither his way into the cave at this point and there was silence from within. Damen waited outside and thought he heard some hurried footsteps but they were faint and drifting away. Perhaps a member of their hunting party.

“We should see if we can find you a long stick. Usually Auguste and I come with staffs or spears to keep our balance while trekking,” Laurent continued when he finally began coming out again. Laurent emerged from the cave a few moments later, with a garnet brooch clutched in one hand, and a rock with fading paint in the other triumphantly. There was dirt on his face, his hair was mussed and his crown was askew. He was beautiful.

Damen took two large steps, and pulled Laurent into his chest. Laurent lowered his hands, still clutching his prize, while Damen pressed a kiss to the blonde head of the treasure that had stolen his heart.

 

+++

 

Nikandros strode down the halls of the King’s Quarters. He had learned enough from previous incidents to keep his distance, but this time he had been invited by Damen, who requested his presence after retiring from the evening banquet.

Having been entertaining ambassadors from Patras and Vask all day, Nikandros was ready to retire, but duty awaits. Nikandros admired the architecture of the new palace. It harmoniously blended the austere Akielon architecture with the comfort of Veretian design. He’d appreciate it more if he hadn’t been listening to the courtiers proclaim this the entire day to the foreign dignitaries who arrived to celebrate their Kingdom’s new capital.

Not all the foreign arrivals were tiresome--Nikandros found a friend in Prince Torveld of Patras, for whom he’d already had a healthy respect for his military campaigns. Torveld’s shadow, a fair-haired slave, had been conspicuously absent. Torveld explained that he had met a childhood friend and were catching up.

“I am happy to see them together still,” Torveld commented, his eyes following Damen as he swept Laurent around the room in a dance. It was a Veretian tradition, other dancers would join them on the floor soon after. “They have been through a lot.”

Nikandros kept his opinion to himself. Damen had one hand wrapped around Laurent’s waist, their hands clutched together, Laurent’s other hand on Damen’s shoulder. They gazed deeply into each other's eyes. To all those was gathered there, there could be no mistaking their relationship.

“You say this now,” Nikandros said dryly. “You are lucky to not be constantly confronted by their affections.”

Torveld threw back his head and laughed. Another voice joined the laughter, and it turned out they had an eavesdropper in the form of young Pallas behind them. He flushed at having been caught with his outburst, and greeted the Prince and his Kyros respectfully.

“Pallas, is it?” Torveld enquired. “I’ve heard you are quite the warrior. I look forward to seeing you in the games tomorrow. Is what Kyros Nikandros says true then? Have your Kings been an eyesore?” He asked jokingly, but Pallas choked on his sweetmeat.

“Erm, you highness,” Pallas hesitated. His face was now red. “I have been invited by King Laurent into the room one time. After...coupling.”

Nikandros let out a grumble, as Torveld chuckled, “Veretians are less reserved about sex. I’ve heard that Veretian monarchs invite their Council to witness their consummation on their wedding night. Nikandros, you are on Damen’s council, are you not?”

This time it was Nikandros’ turn to choke. He had not heard this before.

“I jest,” Torveld tried to calm him down. “I doubt these two would revive that tradition. Though it is true about Veretians inviting their Council to their chambers. Unlike Patras and Akielos, we keep matters of the heart private.”

Whatever response Nikandros could have come up with was lost, as at that moment, Lazar had stepped up, greeted the two nobles, and then bowed low--to Pallas. He extended a hand in offering and with a cocky grin, jerked his head towards the dance floor. Pallas stammered his apologies to his company and accepted with a blush on his cheeks.

The courtship between Laurent’s guard and the rising star in Nikandros’ army was an odd one. Despite the language barrier and natural prejudice between countries, they made do. Nikandros scoffed at himself; he had too much free time if he was musing about two soldiers.

His thoughts returned to Damen as he approached him near the end of the feast. “Nikandros!” he had almost shouted, grabbing him by the shoulders. The revelries had gotten to him, and his breath smelled heavily of wine. “You are my dearest, most loyal friend. Everything I have here is because you have always stayed true to me. Come to my chambers after you leave the feast. Friend, I will share everything with you.” The wine had loosened Damen’s tongue.

From a short distance away, Laurent was watching with a bemused expression. “We will retire first,” he said. “Join us after.”

He had arrived at their door and noticed there were no guards. There were guards outside the Kings Chambers, but none outside of their personal rooms. Was this a security risk? He would bring this up with Damen.

“Should we have waited for Nikandros?” Laurent’s voice drifted through the door. Perhaps this was why there were no guards directly outside their rooms.

Nikandros had gone to knock, but he paused. He wondered, why he had been invited. What had Damen wished to share with him?

“He won’t mind, he’s done this with me before. Different coloring though, always darker in the past. But easier to open up, so he won’t mind if we get started without him.”

Nikandros froze. Those were crass words leaving his friends mouth. What in the world was Damen talking about. His memory flashed, and he remembered in their adolescent years, they had shared many things. Including the occasional lover, the occasional bed slave. Dark-skinned slaves. Nikandros swallowed, remembering Pallas and Torveld’s words that night. It couldn’t be.

Laurent let out a small surprised shout, “Oh!”

A few moments later, Damen spoke up, his voice distorted, “It doesn’t taste bad per say…”

To Laurent’s rebuke, “Don’t spit it out! Just swallow it.”

There was a pause and then Damen’s voice was clearer, “Now I know why you always keep water by your side.”

Nikandros pinched the bridge of his nose. Did he have the courage to go in there and tell his kings he was not interested in sharing their pleasure?

“I heard it’s good for your skin if you smear it on your face,” Damen suggested.

No. He did not have the courage. Nikandros spun around and walk away. His two kings would forget about their invitation in the throes of passion. Hopefully.

\---

Laurent settled Damen’s heavy body down at the table and poured him water. “Drink,” he ordered. “You’ve drank too much wine tonight.”

Damen smiled at him, his eyes glazed from the wine, his face the same pleased expression it had the entire night. “I’m happy. I drink to celebrate us.”

Laurent moved to unpin the heavy red cloak that laid over his chiton. It was warm in their chambers; Damen would not need it. “The dance tonight was unnecessary. We do not need to follow every Veretian tradition.”

Damen grabbed for Laurent’s hands after they undid his pin and his cloak floated to the floor. “Laurent, if you don’t think I will use up every opportunity to have you in my arms, then you don’t know me very well.”

“Worth the hours wasted trying to learn a Veretian waltz?”

“Not a waste when I had you holding my hand.” Damen had begun to press small kisses to Laurent’s fingers.

“You’re a fool when you’re drunk.” But Laurent didn’t pull his hands away.

“But I’m your fool.”

Laurent turned his face to hide his smile. They had both wanted that dance. Surrounded by their subjects and foreign dignitaries, it seemed impossible that it could’ve happened, but the background had indeed faded away and all that remained was each other. The dance was a display, to all those to opposed their union, that their love for each other was pure and lasting. Along with the new capital would come a new era of peace and unity.

But wrapped up in Damen’s embrace, Laurent pressed to Damen’s chest and Damen with a possessive hold on his waist, nothing else seemed to matter. Damen, with his warm eyes and olive skin, wrapped up in his red cloak, had waltzed him around the room like a dancer with years of experience. The room had spun, Laurent only catching glimpses of faces. Any and all whispers insinuating dissent regarding unification faded away to only Damen’s promises of their happy years to come.

By the end of the dance, Damen and Laurent had been joined by Pallas and Lazar, and Laurent had found himself smiling at the couple, probably unnerving the two soldiers. He understood Damen’s need to celebrate.

Damen’s fingers had begun to wander, tugging at the laces at Laurent’s throat and Laurent gently pulled his fingers away. “Don’t forget, you invited Nikandros over tonight.”

Damen blinked, and disappointment fell over his face momentarily. “Oh right.” And then it brightened up, as he remembered the reason why they had invited their Kyros over. “Where is it?”

“I had them bring it up from the kitchens,” Laurent carried a cold tray from their desk to the table. “I’ve never had these before. It was kind of Torveld to bring them to us.”

Damen sipped some more water as Laurent uncovered the tray. Lying before them was a platter of malformed rocks. “They’re called oysters,” Damen explained. “They don’t look like much, until you open up the shell. They’re a delicacy in Patran and only found along their eastern coast. There are different types, though I’ve never had this kind before. Here, I’ll show you how to open it.”

Laurent was impressed with the dexterity Damen displayed, wielding the tiny blade despite still being inebriated. With a slight jerk of the hand, the shell popped open. The inside looked quite unappetizing, if Laurent was being truthful. But nestled within the flesh of the oyster was a single bright pearl.

Damen grinned, “My love. It seems I am destined to shower you with gems befitting your beauty.” Laurent batted him on the shoulder and Damen nudged him back playfully. “It is a rare find though. Seems you bring me luck. Perhaps we can put it on one of your crowns.” Damen did not look to be joking.

Regardless, Laurent removed the pearl. It was indeed beautiful. “How do you eat this?” He nodded back at the oyster.

Damen moved to squeeze the juice of prepared lemons onto the soft flesh. “Tilt you head back and it’ll slide right into your mouth.”

Laurent did as instructed, and as the salty yet lemon-laced oyster slid into his mouth, he suppressed a shudder. It was an odd sensation. He swallowed it quickly. “It’s interesting,” he offered.

Damen chuckled, “Not everybody likes it. To be honest, I don’t quite remember what it tastes like. It’s been a long time. The last time I had shared it with Nikandros, while we were still growing.” Damen picked up another oyster and the blade and placed it in Laurent’s hand. “Now you try.”

“Should we have waited for Nikandros?” When Damen had expressed his desire to share this Patran gift with his Kyros, Laurent accepted because it was what Damen wished. Now he was glad he accepted because it meant another mouth to help finish this gift. Laurent could still taste the slime in his mouth. He took a sip of water from Damen’s cup.

“He won’t mind, he’s done this with me before. Different coloring though, always darker in the past. But easier to open up, so he won’t mind if we get started without him.” Damen picked at the shells, lighter in color than the ones he'd had in the past.

It was more difficult to open than Damen made it seem. Laurent struggled with the twist of the knife for a few moments longer until it suddenly released. Laurent, perhaps more excited than he should’ve been, let out a minor shout, “Oh!”

Damen beamed at him. Laurent added the lemon juice, and passed the shell to Damen. As Damen slid the oyster down his throat, Laurent watched Damen’s face change from excitement to mild confusion. “It doesn’t taste bad per say…” he mumbled around the oyster.

If Laurent had to eat it, so did Damen. “Don’t spit it out! Just swallow it.”

Damen grabbed the water and washed it down. “Now I know why you always keep water by your side.”

The two of them stared at the remaining pile of oysters. It was a diplomatic gift from Torveld and neither wanted to offend their guest.

“I heard it’s good for your skin if you smear it on your face,” Damen offered.

Laurent could still feel the coating around his throat. “What if we brought it for our dear council members tomorrow morning?”

Damen’s face lit up, “You did say Herode has been giving you a hard time about the taxes.”

Laurent carefully framed his face into a look of innocence. “I’m completely offering them this treat with good intentions.”

Damen laughed, and pulled Laurent close. “I adore you.”

“And I you,” Laurent couldn’t keep the blush off his cheeks, despite the many times they traded intimacies. His pale skin was a disadvantage. But this time, he didn’t offer any protests when Damen reached once again to help him disrobe.

After some time passed, Laurent lifted his head from where he’d been resting on Damen’s bare chest, and his movement jostled Damen from his light slumber, their legs still tangled, and the sheets having fallen to their hips. Laurent frowned, “Wasn’t Nikandros supposed to stop by?”

 

+++

 

Nikandros was livid. The council meeting had been a complete disaster. He had warmed up to Veretian soldiers, finding their outlook on life not too different from his own, but the Veretians who had spent their days lavishing in court only reminded him of what a deceitful, frivolous people they were.

Nikandros knocked on the doors of the King’s Study. “Damen, it’s me. I’ve brought wine. I need to talk to you.”

Nikandros heard a soft call for him to come in. He shifted the wine and cups to one hand, and then pushed open the door. He looked around the room: twin desks, maps of their kingdom pinned to the wall, and saw only Damen sitting behind his desk. No one else in sight.

Strange. The welcoming call had been a softer voice. “I thought I heard Laurent.”

Damen looked flustered, “Oh, uhm…”

Nikandros didn’t really care, it was probably preferable that Laurent was not present as Nikandros was determined to eviscerate his Veretian council. Nikandros took a seat across from Damen. “I know you have difficulty taking heed of my council, especially when a certain blond is involved, but I feel like todays mixing of the two country's councils was premature. Akielos is dealing with its own private issues, especially concerning the banning of slavery, and it's foolish to invite Veretians to hear about the internal conflicts we're having." Nikandros took a long drink from his cup.

It was a good wine, but Damen didn’t reach for it, instead looked at Nikandros solemnly, so he proceeded. “Yes, the invitation to Patras and Vask was a good strategic move. Now they think we are unified and won’t attack us while we sort out our internal affairs, but that won’t remain forever. Do you think Torveld will be able to hold his brother at bay for us just because you won his favor by exploiting his love for his slave?” At some point, Nikandros had gotten up from his seat and was pacing the floor in front of Damen’s desk. “Speaking of that, I know it was Laurent’s doing. Which just goes to show that you can’t trust these Veretians. They will use whatever they can to gain an advantage. Do you think they don’t seek to takeover Akielos? We are letting them learn our strategies and study our weaknesses!” Nikandros stopped in his pacing and saw Damen still staring straight, but his eyes had gone slightly glassy. “Damen, are you alright?” He sat back down in his seat to watch his friend more closely.

Damen seemed to jerk out of his reverie. “Y-yes. Sorry,” he said with a steady voice. Perhaps he was in deep thought, turning over Nikandros’ words. “I recognize it was a mistake to join the two councils at this moment.” Suddenly Damen yelped and jerked in his seat.

“Damen!” Nikandros scolded, “What is wrong with you?”

“I--I stubbed my toe against the desk. I am not myself at this moment,” Damen replied. And that much was true; Damen looked tired and stressed.

“Are you perhaps becoming ill? Should I go fetch the physician?” It would not do well for Damen to fall ill at this moment. They couldn’t show weakness, for surely the Veretians would use it to their advantage and incite a civil war.

“No, I think I just need rest,” said Damen with a weary voice.

Nikandros hadn’t seen Damen in this distress in so long. He was usually the epitome of health. He stood up and moved to Damen’s side, placing a hand to his forehead. “You are very flushed and warm,” Nikandros declared. Could someone have laced his drink during the meeting? “You haven’t been poisoned, have you?! It could have been one of the Veretians today! Too cowardly to do it against their own snake King--”

“Friend, no!” Damen’s voice was deep and labored. His breathing becoming shallower. But he was also so quick to defend his blonde lover. “No, nothing of the sort has been done. But I think it’s better to have this conversation tomorrow?”

Nikandros knew his friend would refuse to see the physician when he was in such a mood. He sighed. He would see how he was doing tomorrow, and convince him otherwise. “I can see you are distracted. Rest well tonight, we’ll reconvene in the morning.”

He left him the wine, and shut the door just as Damen uttered, “Good night.”

Just in case, Nikandros was sending Pallas to check on the cups served at the meeting.

\---

It had been a very long day of council meetings over new trade routes that favored both Vere and Akielos, and did the Kings really think a unified capital in the center was wise, and perhaps the ban on slaves in Akielos could be discussed some more?

Damen, who wildly preferred the ease of fighting an enemy over diplomacy, had a headache. It was his idea to try and have dual council meetings with both representatives from Akielos and Vere. Laurent, who had initially thought the idea ludicrous, Damen now knew only agreed for exactly this moment: so he could stand here in their study and give him a look of pure arrogance for his foresight.

Damen rubbed his temple as he leaned against the large oak desk that sat in front of a wider window that overlooked the port at Marlas. "You don't have to say it," he said. "I had too high hopes, I know."

Laurent walked around to touch the back of Damen's neck. His hand was cool, and welcome.

"I admire your ambition in this area, though. Our nations will one day have a unified council and will come together as easily as we do."

His touch had begun to hold a different meaning, and Damen glanced over at him to confirm his suspicions.

Laurent looked easily back. "Watching you silence a room of squabbling nobles speaking over each other in increasing volume in different languages was very impressive."

Damen turned to more easily slot his body along Laurent's, and gently pushed Laurent against the desk until he moved to sit on its surface. Damen, standing between Laurent's legs, pressed in. "Is that so? What else can I impress you with?"

Laurent leaned back until he was resting on his hands, but moved his hips forward until they aligned directly against Damen's, his thighs squeezing. "I would like very much for you to impress me with your large cock. I want you to fuck me until I forget the day we've both just had. I want your cock so deep inside of me the only thoughts in my head are _harder_ and _faster_."

Damen felt them both stir at Laurent's words, and Damen grabbed Laurent's hips to pull him forward until he could kiss him hard on the mouth. Laurent as easy as a blossoming flower opened up for him, allowing their tongues to meet as the kiss deepened, hot and wet.

Damen was working on the laces of Laurent's sleeves, Laurent not making the task any easier with his hand beneath Damen's chiton, when the knock sounded at the door.

"Damen, it's me. I've brought wine. I need to talk to you."

It was Nikandros.

Before Damen could stammer out a reply that he was actually busy, thanks, come back later, Laurent opened his mouth and said, "Come in!"

It took milliseconds to realize what exactly Nikandros was about to walk in on. Quickly, with an incredulous look at Laurent, and without properly thinking through the course of this action, Damen pulled Laurent from the desk and moved him underneath while Damen sat down at the chair. In Damen's mind, this effectively shielded from Nikandros any impropriety.

"Damen, what the hell are you doing--" Laurent whispered.

Damen just looked at him pleadingly as Nikandros opened the door.

"Fine," Laurent said, and leaned back, pinching Damen's calf.

Nikandros shut the door behind him, indeed holding a bottle of wine and two cups in his hands. He looked around, puzzled. "I thought I heard Laurent."

Laurent beneath the desk pinched him again, as Damen flushed and tried not to react. "Oh, uhm…"

But thankfully Nikandros was moving on, taking a seat in front of the desk.

"I know you have difficulty taking heed of my council, especially when a certain blond is involved, but I feel like todays mixing of the two country's councils was premature. Akielos is dealing with its own, private issues, especially concerning the banning of slavery, and it's foolish to invite Veretians to hear about the internal conflicts we're having."

Damen was trying, with some difficulty, to look stern and serious, as if he were paying attention to his friend's words. The difficulty was that Laurent, who clearly resented having been shoved under the desk like some illicit mistress, was taking his revenge, by moving his hands slowly up and down Damen's legs, encroaching ever closer on Damen's unwavering erection.

Damen could see his friend's mouth moving, but his ears were roaring with the potential embarrassment of being caught, which unfortunately was actually only making him harder. Laurent pushed Damen's chiton even further up his thighs and began kissing the skin near his arousal.

"Damen, are you alright?"

Damen refocused himself and noticed that Nikandros was apparently stopped in middle of whatever he was saying, and was looking at him with concern.

Laurent had now taken hold of the base of his length, and Damen could feel his puffs of laugher against his sensitive and leaking cock.

"Y-yes. Sorry," Damen said, trying to keep his voice steady. "I recognize it was a mistake to join the two councils at this moment."

Laurent moved his mouth to cover Damen's tip, and Damen yelped. Laurent moved off and pinched him again, clearly upset Damen was going to cause them to lose the game. Because this had clearly become a game.

"Damen!" Nikandros said. "What is wrong with you?"

"I-- I stubbed my toe against the desk. I am not myself at the moment." Damen tried to look stressed and weary, instead of pleased as Laurent moved to apply his mouth once more.

"Are you perhaps becoming ill? Should I go and fetch the physician?"

Damen almost said yes, just so Nikandros would leave. Laurent had taken more of him into his mouth, moving his hand in tandem. Damen, in an effort not to lose the game, tried to remember all the times he had held himself still while in bed with Laurent, and attempted to channel past strength to him now.

"No, I think I just need rest," Damen managed to say, hoping this Nikandros would take this opening to leave.

Damen could barely think, all he wanted to do was slide down the chair and full take pleasure in his lover's warm, wet mouth, his tongue sliding along his length, flickering at the tip and playing with the slit, enjoying the salty evidence of his pleasure. Damen wanted to move his hand into Laurent's blond locks, gently encouraging, as Laurent now allowed, as Laurent began to take him even deeper into his mouth, sucking. Damen wanted to watch as Laurent's cheeks hollowed, to see the outline of his own cock against Laurent's cheek, to put his hand there. He wanted to full marvel at this gift he had been given, that he was allowed this.

Nikandros stood and Damen jerked himself out of the fantasy. He flushed even deeper as his friend moved to his side, and put a hand to Damen's forehead. "Wha--What are you doing?"

"You are very flushed and warm," Nikandros declared. "You haven't been poisoned, have you?! I could have been one of the Veretian's today! Too cowardly to do it against their own snake King--"

"Friend, no!" Damen hurried to say, although he knew his voice was husky and deep with pleasure. His breathing, he now took notice, was shallow. No wonder Nikandros thought something wrong with him. Laurent was moving his mouth faster, sucking him in earnest, miraculously not making enough sound that Nikandros noticed. If he didn't get Nikandros out soon…. Damen flushed. "No, nothing of the sort has been done. But I think it better to have this conversation tomorrow?"

Nikandros, still standing, sighed. "I can see you are distracted. Rest well tonight, we'll reconvene in the morning."

Damen managed a polite, if strained, "Good night," before Nikandros shut the door behind him, leaving behind the wine.

As soon as they were alone again, Damen thought Laurent would get up and leaving him wanting, for how he handled Nikandros' interruption.

Instead, Laurent continued to move his mouth over Damen's cock, but now Damen could enjoy the view and fulfill the fantasy he had earlier.

He leaned back in his chair, and gently placed his hand on Laurent's blonde locks. Looking was far more arousing and pleasing than imagining, the reality better than any fantasy he could have ever come up with. Laurent on his knees, sucking him off greedily, his eyes glittering wickedly. Damen could feel his body tighten, the tension in his body singing for release. Laurent, who by now knew all the signs, moved to take Damen as far as he could, and Damen's came as soon as his cock hit the back of Laurent's throat. He heard himself groan, loud and without restraint, trying to make up for how silent he had been earlier.

Laurent swallowed as he moved to stand in front of Damen. He put his hands on Damen's thighs and leaned in close, their lips close enough they were breathing the same air, Damen trying to calm his heartbeat, but Laurent was calm and collected.

Laurent kissed him quickly, barely a brushing of lips. "I quite liked this game. Shall we try it tomorrow during the next council meeting?”

Damen just groaned in exasperation.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still in disbelief that I managed to find this trilogy, I am not kidding when I say I have waited my whole life for a series like this. So this is my little (it was supposed to be short! I got carried away...) contribution to the fandom. Please don't be too harsh, it's been a long time since I wrote. 
> 
> I also cannot write smut for the life of me, so I outsourced it to fatcynthiablackbeauty (my bestie, my bae, my beta, my muse) so you have her to thank for the amazing last section. 
> 
> I'm [sarabelium](http://sarabelium.tumblr.com/) on tumblr if you want to follow me (warning though, I suck at tagging, but I promise I'll try harder), but you should most definitely follow fatcynthiablackbeauty at her tumblr [americancupsofbritishtea](http://americancupsofbritishtea.tumblr.com/) because her blog is way better and she is amazing at smut. Badger her to write more and upload them!


End file.
